Don't Throw Stones
by Checkerboards
Summary: Poison Ivy's going up against her most unlikely foe ever...Mother Nature.
1. Tempest

Chapter One: Tempest

Rain dripped steadily down the glass. A pair of sage green eyes watched it stream between the panes. It ran in tiny rivulets down to the dead brown grass in the muddy soil, making puddles where the walls of the greenhouse met the earth.

It was fall in Gotham City. The sheets of rain steadily drenched the city. The gutters ran like icy rivers down to the overflowing sewers. Rotting leaves from the few trees within the city limits clustered on the sidewalks, leaving wet black marks on the grey concrete when tracked away by unwary feet. A chill wind whipped around the corners, making coats flap wildly around pedestrians as they hurried to get to somewhere warm.

Ivy huddled miserably in a nest of plants in her greenhouse, watching the rain come down for the third time that week. A vine from her flytrap curled comfortingly around her shoulder. She sighed and snuggled into it, closing her eyes and resting her head on a pillow of vines that snaked underneath her.

The thing about fall that really curled her leaves, she thought, was that it marked the death of everything. Winter wasn't nearly as bad...the snow covered and insulated the tiny remains of all those poor plants. But in the fall, everywhere she went the death of plants was thrown in her face. Children played in piles of leaves as if it were something to enjoy! And Halloween...carving pumpkins, corn stalks tied together and propped upright in yards...

An icy raindrop splatted across her face. She jerked upright, squinting toward the ceiling angrily, and saw a crack in a pane of glass. Another raindrop hit her right in the eye.

"That is IT!" she howled to the jungle inhabiting the greenhouse. "I can't stand this for one more minute!" She brushed impatiently at the vines that blanketed her. The vines hastily uncoiled themselves from around her body and cleared a path for her to walk. They nestled back around each other like confused cats as she stalked over to her workbench. Tossing aside the plans for eradicating several big businesses who had trampled on the earth's rights, she started work, occasionally pausing to glare hatefully outside.

One way or another, fall was over in Gotham City.


	2. Babes in the Woods

Chapter Two: Babes in the Woods

What most people didn't understand, Ivy mused as she carefully repotted a sprouting plant, is that crimes didn't just happen. Oh, yes, there was the occasional housewife that went crazy and stabbed her husband, but the really good ones...she wiped a smear of dirt off the side of the gleaming red pot...the really good ones took planning.

For example, her latest endeavor. She wiped her hands on a towel and gazed proudly at the array of pots and plants in front of her. It had taken days to assemble enough flowerpots to hold the plantlife for this particular venture, not to mention the hours spent walking through the wilderness looking for perfect specimens of species to blend together.

Of course, it would have taken a normal botanist months, perhaps years to put together the particular plant which was taking root in every available piece of dirt now. Ivy grinned and tapped a finger against a glass beaker. The translucent liquid (an immensely powerful fertilizer) inside rippled slightly to her touch. Who needed Miracle-Gro?

She glanced up at the sky through the glass of the greenhouse. The moon beamed down at her, spilling its white light cleanly down on her face. The whiteness of her teeth reflected it back through her green lips as she smiled.

It was time to begin. She strode over to the wall and slipped into her green leather coat. The brisk air hit her face like a slap as she stepped outside the warm greenhouse. She lifted her boots carefully to avoid stepping on the roots of the trees as she headed to a particular section of the small wooded area that surrounded the small glass structure that housed her most precious and delicate plants.

Here the trees were wrapped with vines, blanketed, almost choked with them. They twined around the branches, hugged the trunks, and writhed across the ground to commune in piles akin to discarded garden hoses.

Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the vines bulged slightly every foot or so. One might also notice that the vines were absolutely leafless, and the vines didn't narrow or widen at all. They were peculiar, to say the very least.

Ivy grinned and knelt down, petting the nearest pile as if it was a particularly well-behaved pet. It wriggled under her touch.

"Tonight's the night, babies," she cooed. "Come to Mama."

The vines shuddered. They started to unravel from the trees, falling like limp spaghetti. As they fell, they segmented at each bulge, turning into mounds and mountains of wriggling, writhing green tubes. As Ivy watched, smiling proudly, each little segment uncoiled three little leglike protrusions at the bottom and sprouted two arms at the top.

The one nearest her opened one shining eye in the center of its abdomen. She laughed and scooped it up, cuddling it like a baby. As she set it back down on its feet, it flicked out two newly-sprouted hands with long clawlike fingers and flexed them entreatingly at her.

"It's time, baby. Go!" she whispered. It stared at her for a second, vegetable eye unblinking, then turned and waved one hand at its shifting, stretching brethren. They stood immediately to attention. The baby waved both hands in a quick motion downward, and the mass of vine beings scampered off through the trees. They disappeared in seconds.

Ivy knelt for a moment after they were gone, running her fingers through the brown earth they'd churned up, then got to her feet and absently dusted her hands off.

Now for the fun part.


	3. Genesis

Each vine-being had specific orders grown into its brain, implanted there one might say. Pick up precisely one flowerpot from the greenhouse, drop it off on the outskirts of town, and move on to part two of the plan.

The greenhouse door silently swung open. The vine-beings crawled across the floor, slithering and writhing over one another as they went. They descended on the pots en masse, climbing over the top of those that had already stopped in order to reach an unclaimed pot for themselves. The chaos was disturbingly quiet.

The battalion of plants departed in clusters, preferring to travel with those that had grown next to them. Soon the roiling mass of green was gone.

Ivy walked cheerfully back to the greenhouse. The smile on her face turned to a frown when she walked inside and saw the fifty or so cherry red flowerpots winking merrily at her. There hadn't been enough vine-beings to carry them all.

_Damn._ _So much for the fun part,_ Ivy thought as she started carrying the pots out to her car.

Quite a while later, the small pink car was crammed with foliage and a few other useful items. Ivy slid carefully in. The leather of her coat caught on a broken edge of a pot and the vine tipped sideways. She caught it in a desperate save, her elbow landing on the horn.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE....

She returned the uprooted vine carefully to its pot, started the car, and headed off to the east side of town. It was a depressing drive, past nothing but concrete and metal. There were no plants to be seen, save a few weeds lurching out of the cracks of the sidewalks. It was a comfort to have all of her babies in the car with her.

She arrived at the outskirts of Gotham proper. She began to drive slowly in a circle around it, stopping every few feet to deposit a flowerpot on a section of bare earth. Where there wasn't bare earth, she tore away the refuse with a crowbar and a shovel.

Almost two in the morning now.

She placed the last flowerpot carefully in its location, noting that the vine babies had completed their part of the circle. She could see some of the other flowerpots in the distance, faintly glimmering in the moonlight.

She got back in her car and put the key in the ignition. It stuck and wouldn't turn. She slapped it once, twice, and it finally consented to rotate and start the car. She drove quietly, without fuss, to the very center of town.

A series of skyscrapers stabbed high into the air, shining brightly against the darkness of the night. Ivy parked behind one of them and slid out of the car. She withdrew a common vine sprout from her pocket and tossed it down onto the asphalt in the alleyway.

It wormed down into the cracks. She could almost hear it questing for the dirt. As it hit the soil, it turned a brighter green and started to thicken, leaning up against the building for support. Ivy waited until it was thick enough to support her weight, then placed a boot delicately on one outstretched tendril. Two more tendrils shot up, and she wrapped her hands gently about them as the vine elevated her to roof level.

The bitter fall wind snapped her leather coat about her ankles as she disembarked the helpful vine. The leaves quivered in the wind. She patted it, then strode determinedly to the center of the roof. She raised her hands, pivoting slowly in a circle.

It would be the trickiest thing she'd ever pulled off. It would be the biggest job ever. It would be the best thing for plants since fertilizer.

She strained as hard as she could to reach her babies, one at a time, to reach those little red flowerpots on the edges of town. She pushed herself as hard as she could, falling to her knees with the effort. They were starting to grow, starting slowly, so slowly...

She felt one of the vines shatter the constrictive walls of its pot. It was growing almost uncontrollably fast without her direction, which meant it had tapped into the specially-fertilized layer of soil that lined each flowerpot.

She felt, rather than saw, the activity around that one vine. A vine-being was there, holding a liberated pane of glass from someone's window, sharp edges blunted with a quick layer of duct tape. It held it carefully in place next to the vine, which grabbed it tightly and wrapped around the edges.

She bent her will to the next flowerpots. One by one they burst. Slowly, slowly she felt the city being surrounded. It was taking so long...

The final flowerpot burst.

She fell backward, her legs turning to jelly beneath her. It was all up to the vine-beings now. They'd steal the glass, they'd place it, and her vines would grow and grow...

"Poison Ivy." The words were flat and forbidding. She whirled, still sitting, to see the Batman at her back.


	4. Encounters

"Poison Ivy." He glared at her, eyes narrowed.

_How does he get his eyes to glow like that?_ she wondered madly to herself as she stretched into position, legs gently crossed to the side, weight resting on one outstretched arm. "Batman," she answered back, coolly, calmly. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and admired her fingernails.

His eyes flicked back and forth across the rooftop. She smiled saucily at him. _He has no idea what I'm doing up here,_ she thought. _Perfect._

"A late night for gardening," he graveled.

"Oh, the night's just getting started, Batman," she drawled. "For you." She quirked an eyebrow, and an offshoot of the vine that had transported her to the roof whipped out of the darkness and wrapped around his torso. He grunted and started to fight it, kicking as it lifted him off of the ground. She smiled as it slowly turned him upside down.

Ivy walked over to the other side of the vine, sidling carefully around Batman's flailing limbs. Blowing him a kiss, she slid down into the embrace of the plant. She relaxed into its grip, letting it lower her down to her car.

She was absolutely exhausted when her boots touched the pavement. It was time to get home. She climbed into her car and put the keys in the ignition.

She glanced into the rearview mirror. A red-and-green blur was bearing down on her pretty pink car. She saw it swoop down from the rooftops and hit the ground running. Robin.

She pushed frantically at the key. It was stuck again. She hit it once, twice, three times. _Come on, come on..._She could hear his boots hitting the pavement now. The key finally went in. She twisted it frantically and slammed her boot down on the gas pedal. The car roared wildly down the alley, skidding around the corner and disappearing down the street.

Robin slammed his fist into his open palm as the illuminated license plate that read ROSEBUD faded away. He glanced to his left at the Batmobile, which was now festooned with a festive green vine firmly attached to both the front and back wheels.

There was an almighty thud next to him, and Robin turned to see Batman unfolding from a crouch. "We're going on patrol. Ivy's up to something."

"What was your first clue?" Robin joked. One flash of the Bat-glare reduced him to a muttered "Sorry."


	5. Reactions

Ivy woke up mid-morning, dangling quietly in a tangle of hammock-like vines in the woods near her greenhouse. She stretched and looked up through the screen of foliage.

There was a new layer of glass in the sky.

She beamed with delight and withdrew herself from the cocoon, leaping lightly down to the ground and gazing upward proudly. The city was fully covered in a brand new, custom made greenhouse. Of course, no one had any windows, but it was a small price to pay for no more wind, hmm?

She went back inside and flipped on the television. "...until the name Maudling is almost totally obscured. And now, an update on the strange structure that was found over Gotham this morning. We go live to Summer Gleason with the report. Summer?"

"I'm here at the edge of the structure, which appears to be a gigantic greenhouse," Summer reported. Ivy snorted as the diminutive reporter waved a useless arm at the wall of glass and plant life behind her. "It seems to have been built entirely out of these peculiar vines and stolen panes of glass. The glass has been taken from every available window in Gotham, from churches to car windshields to apartment buildings." The camera obligingly zoomed in on a segment of the wall, which contained a remarkably whole stained-glass window and a portion of safety glass with its crisscross of wires. "No one is sure how or why this structure has been built, but police say that it's the work of none other than Pamela Isley, better known as Poison Ivy." One of the vine-babies clambered down the wall and slowly began to creep down behind Summer, using the vines on its feet to cling to the wall as it reached for her with its arms. Ivy grinned. "Poison Ivy escaped from Arkham Asylum five months ago, and is currently wanted for-EEEEK!"

Summer screamed in terror and leaped forward, spinning wildly in a circle and clawing at her hair. The vine baby, who was calmly sitting on the wall, waved one finger condescendingly at her. Summer grimaced and took a step toward it. It reared back, flinging its arms open wide, then feigned a spring forward. Summer shrieked again and skipped backward. "Uh...back to you!" she stammered.

The anchorman in the studio was taken aback. "Um...uh, thank you for that, uh, enlightening report, Summer. Now we go to Lyle to see what the man in the street thinks of all this."

Ivy leaned closer to the television, hoping for another wonderful scene like the one with Summer.

"So, Mr..."

"Ned. Just call me Ned," grunted the heavyset man in the white tank top as he tossed another heavy sack down on the pile.

"Ned," agreed Lyle, smiling affably. "What do you think of this diabolical new creation of Poison Ivy's?"

"Meh," grunted Ned, throwing down another sack.

"You're not worried? Not scared?"

Ned took out a handkerchief and wiped his bald head. "Listen, pal, my brother's had to deal with the Scarecrow's fear whatsis and I got an uncle in the cemetery from the Joker's laughing gas. You think a little greenhouse is gonna scare me?"

Lyle adjusted his tie and smiled nervously into the camera. "Well, there you have it, the man on the street. Back to you-"

Ivy clicked the television off.


	6. Run, Riot, Run

The greenhouse extended in an unbroken wall around the city. The bits and pieces of glass suspended in the air gleamed and shimmered in the moonlight. Condensation formed constellations that sparkled from the reflected streetlights.

One section of the wall was glistening red. The nervous vines were shifting imperceptibly, afraid of what was nearing them as they grew hotter and drier.

The riots had started around midday, when the citizens of Gotham had discovered that the roads were blocked. The wall cut inner Gotham cleanly off from its suburbs. People were gathered on both sides of the wall, fighting to get close enough to break through the glass.

The vine babies were holding them off. A man, not the first, was foolish enough to rush the glass. The vine babies swarmed him and tugged him up to the roots of the wall vines. A loose tendril whipped out and yanked him upward by the ankle. The vine spun him around, wrapping around his leg tightly, and raised him high into the air. He was screaming with fear as the vine placed itself gently next to another trapped person, a woman caught around the waist. They caught hands and clung tight to one another in their aerial prison. The wall was speckled with other rioters. They dangled helplessly like colorful Christmas tree ornaments as the crowd below fought to get closer to them.

The grocery stores were mobbed. Everyone was buying as much food as they could in case they were trapped indefinitely. There were bitter fights over bottled water, canned goods, and anything that had to be shipped into town. In one supermarket, two women got into a wrestling match over the last can of peas (which was stolen by an unidentified third party in all the commotion).

By the next day, Gotham was in chaos. Angry mobs moved through the streets, trashing anything in their path and taking whatever they wanted. Thieves climbed into house after house through the empty windowpanes, removing heirlooms and treasures. Fires raced through the poorer sections of town.

Batman sat on top of the same building he'd caught Ivy on and stared helplessly down at the carnage. The air up there was stiflingly hot and smoky from the fires. He coughed and started to lower himself down, hoping to remain unnoticed in the unnatural brightness of the flames.

He'd tried everything. He'd tried smashing through the glass with batarangs. The vine-things caught them and hurled them back at him. He'd tried fighting the vine-things, but they threatened to overwhelm him and he was forced to break away. He'd tried to quell the riots by showing up and threatening the rioters, but the rioters were in no mood to stop simply because Batman said so. Ivy was nowhere to be found.

A gunshot snapped through the air below him. He froze to the side of the building and peered downward. A burly man threatened a wizened old lady with a cane. This he could handle. He swung down and took the mugger out with a vicious kick. The mugger flew into the opposite wall and slumped to the ground, out cold.

The victim retrieved her purse from the unconscious mugger and turned to face the Batman. He offered her a hand to help her up.

Her cane smacked down hard on his glove. It stung, even through all the reinforcements. "Don't touch me," she snapped at him, using the wall to assist herself. "You should be out there, not saving some old biddy from a purse snatcher!"

He blinked in astonishment. The cane came whistling around again, aimed at his head. This time he caught it before it hit him.

"I said move it, sonny!"


	7. All Fall Down

Ivy had to admire herself for this one. It was a work of art. Her plants supported their network of glass far above the city, stretching out high enough to encompass even the very skyscraper she'd stood on to grow them. Best of all, and here she shuddered a bit with delight, best of all her vine-babies were climbing all over the inside and the outside, protecting it, attacking those that would tear her work down.

Ivy allowed herself a small twirl of delight, kicking up a drift of leaves in the tiny park in the forgotten edges of the city. It wasn't often that a plan worked out so well. The greenhouse had been up for two days, two! The Bat had gone up against her vine-babies one-on-one and lost, miserably. It was grand, it was delicious, it was better than springtime!

Speaking of springtime...Ivy breathed in a happy breath of fresh nighttime air. Well, she amended, perhaps not _fresh_...there were downsides to living in a giant greenhouse filled with other people, after all, but at least it was warm. She coughed.

The sound of a footstep reverberated off the glass, and she spun around to see the Batman rising from a crouch, batrope still in one hand. "Just swinging through the neighborhood?" she drawled, subtly backing toward the wall. The vines holding the glass in place writhed gently in place as she neared them.

"You've got to stop this," he demanded.

"Why?" she asked lightly. "I'm doing Gotham a favor."

"What favor?" he graveled, coming closer.

"Why, I've ended the grip of the seasons, Batman! Just imagine it. No more snow-covered rooftops...no more icy roads..."

"No more people," he shot back.

"People aren't my concern," she retorted.

"They're mine." With that, he tossed a set of bolas at her. She danced out of the way, sending the grass at his feet shooting up to twine around his ankles. He tore his feet free of the turf, leaving little grass skirts around his ankles, and chased after her. She darted behind a large tree, then jumped toward a branch. Batman bounded after her, leaping higher than she had. He caught her by the wrist and flung them both to the ground. As their boots hit the turf, she swung herself in to kiss him. He dodged expertly and spun her around, catching her other wrist within a matter of moments.

There was a sharp crack from above. A pair of deadly sharp, fractured glass triangles fell directly toward Batman as a vine snaked lightning fast down to snare him. He grabbed Ivy roughly around the waist and hauled her under the tree. _Almost had him,_ Ivy thought to herself as she attempted to kick herself free. _If I can just..._

Another crack! of glass breaking, and Ivy stared upward through the leaves in shock. She hadn't told the vines to move yet!

Each pane of glass was helping to support at least three others. Now that one was gone, the vines weren't strong enough to hold the rest of the glass up on their own. One by one, the panes were snapping and falling as the vines bent beneath the weight of the glass. The vines were cascading to the ground like party streamers among the shattered glass raining down like confetti.

Before she knew what was happening, she'd been handcuffed. The Bat tucked her under his cape and hauled her at full speed across the open grass toward the nearest building. They huddled in the sunken doorway as glass speared down into the lawn.

Ivy could hear the Bat mumbling something into his radio, but she didn't care. All the plants out there...every single blade of grass was in danger, and it was all _his_ fault! If he hadn't interfered, she wouldn't have had to break any glass in the first place trying to kill him.

A shimmering diamond of glass, miraculously unbroken, as large as Ivy, seemed to float downward gently, almost dreamlike. Ivy put her cuffed hands to her mouth as one corner touched down slowly in the top of the tree. It shattered explosively, shredding leaves and ripping deep into branches. Sap started coursing slowly through the ripples in the bark. She buried her face in her hands.

* * *

Being checked back into Arkham was like coming home after breaking curfew on prom night.

They took her back into the depths, back down the halls, back into the same little cell that was reserved for her. The door slid quietly shut behind them as they locked her in.

Poison Ivy placed a delicate forest-green hand on the tiny window. The coldness of the glass made her shiver.


End file.
